


A Probably Unnecessary Trip, Actually

by greyathena



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 01:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11659158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyathena/pseuds/greyathena
Summary: A little 1,000-word self-challenge based on a scene that wouldn't leave my mind - what happens when (alive) Lord Selwyn hears that his daughter's name is now linked with the Kingslayer's?Book or tv canon, you pick.





	A Probably Unnecessary Trip, Actually

_In which Lord Selwyn learns of the harm to his daughter's reputation and travels all the way to Winterfell to make Jaime Lannister marry her or die trying; only to discover that the reluctant groom isn't reluctant at all._

 

"I wanted her to have a proper life."

"She _has_ the life that's proper for her." Jaime raised an eyebrow at the imposing figure of Lord Selwyn seated across the table. "She's never going to be Lady Tarth, quietly knitting while being some halfwit's broodmare."

"And are you planning to take her on, then, when no one else will? Will you be making her Lady Lannister?"

"Well now, that is a question I'm not sure I can answer."

This evidently was not the response Lord Selwyn had expected, because he traded most of his righteous anger for a look of confusion.

"I think I've been disinherited," Jaime went on calmly. "I'm not sure who _is_ Lord Lannister at the moment, but there's a reasonable chance it isn't me. What I mean to say is - I'm amenable to joining our houses, and what's mine is Brienne's, certainly, but that may not actually be very much."

Lord Selwyn looked as if he had been fighting a battle with himself not to ask what Jaime was talking about, and finally he lost. "What?"

"Well, she'd be a fool to take a crippled Kingslayer without a penny to his name, but in the event that she is a fool, I'm hers for the having."

"You jest," Lord Selwyn finally decided.

"Not lately."

Meanwhile, the lady herself had entered the hall and looked a bit terrified to see them together. Jaime waved her over before she could flee. 

"I ask you," he put to her as she gingerly took a seat beside him, "have I been funny lately?"

She stared him down without a flicker of an expression. "You were never funny."

He'd admit that _she'd_ never thought so, so he let it go. "But have I been trying?"

"Not at all," she conceded.

"No jokes at anyone's expense?"

"Well -"

"Other than Pod."

"No," she confirmed.

He smiled at Lord Selwyn. "See? Not a bit of a jape. I agree. The thing should have been done before now. Have the papers drawn up."

"The papers?" Brienne asked.

"For your betrothal," her father replied, still looking sidelong at Jaime as if he expected a punchline.

Brienne stared at Jaime.

"You won't be Lady Lannister," he said, fairly certain that this would come as a relief. "Actually, it's possible Sansa already is. You might be her goodsister, though. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"What?" Brienne said helplessly.

"Your father and I think we should be married," Jaime said. He was feeling curiously light, almost delirious. "He thinks so because he believes I've ruined your reputation. Now, personally I think you did most of the work yourself, but I'm willing to share the blame. And I think we should get married because it's frankly the best idea I've ever had."

"Considering some of your ideas . . ." said Brienne's father.

"I didn't say it was a high bar to clear," Jaime said. He took Brienne's hand. "But don't you agree? We are formidable together. And imagine the children. They'd win every tourney in the land just by showing up."

Brienne made a noise that might have been either agreement or horror.

"We can live on Tarth if you like," Jaime added, to sweeten the deal. In case the crippled Kingslayer without a penny to his name was exactly as attractive a prospect as it sounded.

Brienne, looking wide-eyed at her father, gave a helpless sort of shrug.

"I'll . . . draw up the papers," said Lord Selwyn, looking not much less shocked than his daughter.

Brienne was either about to faint or be sick. Jaime patted her hand. "Would you excuse us?" he asked Lord Selwyn, who nodded and waved as if he were sleepwalking.

Jaime dragged Brienne from the bench and outside, which seemed to wake her up.

"Did I just agree to marry you?" she sputtered.

"Not quite," Jaime said. "But I think your father and I have mutually decided to assume you meant to."

"That's . . ." She scrubbed her hands over her face. "This can't be what you want."

"Come on, we both knew we would reach this point eventually."

Hands still partially covering her face, she looked at him in disbelief. "No. We did not know that."

"Really? Seems obvious to me. You need a husband -"

Brienne snorted.

"Well you _do_ , and we certainly can't trust your father's taste. I - well if I have been disinherited I probably don't _need_ a wife, but I rather like the idea of there being one person in Westeros who doesn't want me dead -"

"Don't count your chickens," she muttered darkly.

"Oh, I'd be a good husband, I think. You wouldn't want to kill me at all." He leaned his shoulder against hers. "You like me."

"Do I."

"I like you." He turned and touched their foreheads together. "Brienne."

"Jaime," she said, reluctantly.

"Think about it. Who could beat us?"

"What about -"

"Whatever you're about to say, the answer is 'doesn't matter.'"

She lifted her head and looked him in the eye. "What about -"

"Doesn't matter."

"Jaime."

"I mean it." 

"Jaime."

" _Brienne_." He took her hand. "Winter is here. We need each other. The armies need us - together, as together as we can be. You are the finest person I've ever known and I obviously don't deserve you, but the seven know no one else does either and I know you, at least. As you are. Can anyone else say the same?"

He was purposely keeping the questions easy. She had to say, "No."

"So?"

She wilted a little. "Really?"

"I've never been more serious." He knew he looked it.

"But what about -"

" _Doesn't. Matter_."

"Promise me," she said, suddenly fierce. "Swear."

He held her hand tightly. "I swear."

She stared into his eyes for a while until, apparently satisfied, she said, "Then yes. Yes."


End file.
